


Holding On & Letting Go

by Anonymous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Fuckton of issues and emotional baggage, Generally dark theme overall, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Multi, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, Post-Season/Series 02, References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, bad decision making skills, dubcon, lots of swearing, no one dies, self-destructive behaviour, so much pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23462083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The Reader is tired of always being a wallflower - watching Stiles (best friend and love of her life), pine after an ice queen Lydia while remaining invisible to him. She is constantly pulled into two different directions: wanting to move on from her unrequited crush, out of self-preservation yet unable to let go.Will Stiles ever see them as more than just friends or did the Reader set camp in delusionville, while stuck in friendzone town?
Relationships: Brief Isaac Lahey/Reader, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Reader/Other(s), Stiles Stilinski/Others, Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Help Me Forget

**Author's Note:**

> AU: set after Season 2. Contains dark themes, depression, lots of swearing, self-destructive behavior, mentions a ton of issues and generally, making several bad decisions in a row. ‘Don’t like, don’t read.’ Thank you!

You glance away, scowling darkly and trying hard to ignore a certain swaying couple on the packed dance floor of Derek’s loft. You are certainly not thinking, wistfully about being the sole recipient of the mole scattered guy’s soft smiles and reason for his whiskey colored eyes to light up, instead of his companion. 

You take a sip from the plastic cup held in hand and another in a rapid fashion, as your treacherous gaze flits back to Stiles again, like a moth attracted towards light. He is leaning down; face awfully close to Lydia’s to hear whatever it is that the witch is spouting. Her tirade must have been entertaining because Stiles offers a short response and they’re both laughing now. 

_Great! One fucking dance and they’re already thick as thieves?_

You shudder to think of what other atrocities you might have to witness by the time this party’s done with. You struggle to regulate your heartbeat and pheromones from betraying the current overwhelming feelings of jealousy and anger you’re experiencing. After all, you have been so good at keeping your ~~love~~ crush on Stiles a secret for close to six years now. It wouldn’t do to let the cat out of the bag because one of your werewolf friends happens to tune in your direction, and manages to connect the dots based on the reactions you’re unintentionally revealing. 

You place the empty plastic cup on a nearby flat surface, resolving not to drink anymore beer for the night. You tamp down the urge to go in search of a stronger beverage. 

_‘Derek will kill me if I raid his secret liquor cabinet’_ , you repeat to yourself, even though it's not exactly a secret where Derek stored them.

_‘It’s a waste, seeing as how werewolves cannot get drunk without adding special wolfsbane ingredients but it’s none of my business why Derek has bottles of scotch and whiskey in his place. All that matters is I cannot drink them, especially not when I’m brooding and likely to slip into an insecure meltdown any second.’_

Stiles had asked Lydia for a dance earlier, and somehow, the ice-princess agreed to his request. Okay, maybe it’s not really surprising that Martin would accept Stiles offer to dance, seeing as how he got to be her knight in shining armor a few hours ago. True to his word, Stiles is slowly yet surely chipping away at Lydia’s defenses and his ten year plan to win her love…yeah, looks like it might get reduced to half or even quarter of its allotted time with the way things are progressing between those two.

You are happy for Stiles, truly. You have known Stiles since you both are toddlers, basically been best friends from the get-go. So, you are aware of his epic crush on Lydia during your third grade which refused to fade away with time, just like your feelings for the hyperactive oddball didn’t dwindle at all. You are really lucky that Scott (Stiles and your other best friend), is such a dumb puppy and ignorant of your non-platonic emotions towards Stiles. The last thing you needed was Scott feeling sorry for you or even informing Stiles about your crush, out of pity and a misguided sense of friendship which only makes the whole situation that much worse. _No thanks._ You prefer to suffer in silence and who knows, perhaps you’ll get over Stiles one day…eventually.

Speaking of dumb puppies, there’s Isaac slumping against the wall near balcony doors, and putting real effort at appearing invisible but without much success. The taller guy kept throwing sad and wistful glances in Scott and Allison’s direction every now and then. You are kinda confused regarding the object of Isaac’s affections. Is it Scott or Allison that he is crazy about?

At least, you’ve got company; and both of you can start a support club - to discuss the perks and perils of pining desperately over oblivious and spoken for friends. 

Not that Stiles is in a relationship, per se…not yet, anyway. You cannot help but think bitterly, eyes wandering subconsciously over to the laughing duo, still dancing despite the promised one song ended while back. You attempt to remind your sinking heart that it’s simply a friendly dance and nothing more is going to happen, this is Lydia Martin, after all.

Even if the red-head queen finally got her head out of the sand and realized what a catch Stiles is, all that apparent genius she is renowned for (according to your best friend at least) managing to clue in the true awesomeness of Stiles at long last, Lydia would hardly make the first move and definitely not when there are witness around, to prove her actions later.

Watching Lydia place her perfect hands around Stiles, manicured talons pressing against his back somewhat intimately while he wears a radiant smile and appears to be floating off the floor in pure joy, is like being slowly choked to death. You need to get away from this horrendous sight before you get sucked into a vortex of depressive thoughts. It’s not like anyone would notice if you skip out early (Stiles definitely wouldn’t) but right now, with your anxiety slowly gaining momentum you really prefer not to be alone in your house. So sticking around in the loft, it is.

You sneak a peek towards Isaac again as a distraction; to avoid the gut-wrenching pain caused from observing the love of your life, make a connection with the love of his life. 

_Yeah, yeah, got the memo. Life sucks for me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Fuck you too, universe!_

\--

Isaac catches you staring, and arches one blond eyebrow elegantly (probably picked it up from Derek, seeing as how Isaac’s living at his place now) in enquiry. You shrug and on an impulse, nod towards the door heading out to the balcony next to him. Fortunately, he gets the hint, and ducks out of the room immediately. 

There’s only so long that you can avoid two people who are casually entwined in a darkened area, moving unhurriedly to the beat of music pulsing wildly around the room. Yeah, you’re pathetic. You have already made peace with that particular fact. From personal experience, you know Isaac is probably looking for a break himself and you just gave him a perfect excuse. Yup, you’re generous like that…at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

You slowly follow Isaac, carefully dogging the dancing and tipsy crowd of strangers and lock the balcony doors behind you after making sure the curtains are in place, blocking you from sight. You’re grateful that Derek installed a locking system on those sliding doors that can be activated from both sides, allowing you to have a moment of peace away from the brash horde.

The cool breeze and relative silence from the loud party scene indoors proves to be a welcome distraction to you. Isaac sat near the far corner of the narrow space, leaning against the wall, and facing the dark skyline. You drop next to him, huddling closer for warmth when Isaac silently raises his long arm to drape over your shoulders, in response to your uncontrolled shivering from the cooler temperature. 

_‘Hmm…having werewolf friends does come with awesome benefits.’_ You think, smugly.

Isaac seems content to just sit in silence. You, however, are not. Buzzing with anxiety, you’re desperate to say or do something to get rid of the weird energy bothering you. A conversation with a friend suffering a similar fate sounds like a great place to start. Still, you’re conscious of the supernatural abilities your friends indoors possess; you may be slightly tipsy but not so far gone that you are afraid of revealing any major, confidential information unwittingly. Not that any of the wolves were in any position to eavesdrop, hopefully. Even Derek appeared to be less grouchy than his usual self, when you last saw him sulking in a less crowded corner. Everyone is enjoying the rave like teenagers are meant to, except for you and Isaac that is.

“So, who is it then…wolf or the hunter?” you ask ten minutes later, out of blue.

Isaac jerks away as if electrocuted and you let out a low whimper, at instant loss of that wonderful heat. He observes you carefully, and slides closer again after seemingly arriving at a conclusion. You sigh contently, wrapped in that amazing warm embrace.

_‘Whoops! Perhaps I’m drunk after all if I skipped subtlety entirely. Fuck, I’m going to scare Isaac away with my big mouth. I’ll just pretend to be talking about something else.’_

“You’re drunk, Y/N. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. In fact, I doubt you do, too.” Isaac replies with a fake laugh.

Isaac is a terrible liar, made even more obvious by his twitching and nervous tells. You are pretty alright with letting it go until Isaac indirectly insults your memory and sobriety levels. You gear up to defend your intellectual honor, completely ignoring the logical voice berating you to shut up.

“What? No, of course you do, Isaac and I know, as well. Fuck, anyone with functioning eyes and two working brain cells can-”

You get interrupted by Isaac’s large hand covering your mouth, stopping you from spilling the beans regarding his feelings to a very supernatural audience back inside the living room, in case any of them were to focus on your conversation. 

You are rattled at how close you came to hurting a good friend of yours. Isaac’s soulful blue eyes do their puppy dog thing as he stares at you, silently pleading you to drop the matter. Not that you need to be requested, you can easily imagine being in his shoes and sure as hell wouldn’t want your personal information broadcasted as though it was breaking news.

You nod once, shamefaced at what you were about to do before Isaac intervened.

“Sorry.” You whisper softly, as he hesitantly removes his hand and relaxes.

Isaac hunches his shoulders, but doesn’t turn away from you. That’s how you know he had forgiven you for your slip.

 _‘Fuck! I have never been a chatty or loud drunk in my life. Figures, the first time I do that I end up hurting a friend, someone who’s already been kicked one too many times. I just can’t stop screwing things for even a second. Shit! Turns out, tonight’s events have affected me more than in thought.’_

You frown, thinking back to the events of this evening. You rest your chin on your knees, hands hugging your lower body as you subconsciously imitate Isaac's posture.

Scott and the others handled an omega beast that purposefully wandered into the Hale territory, while Stiles played hero and was able to save Lydia from getting hurt. Where were you when this happened? You were in the get-away car like you’re told to be. An obedient human civilian, staying out of harm’s path. Although Stiles is given the same instructions, he couldn’t stay put, not when there’s a chance precious Lydia could get hurt. Well, what did you really expect after all these years of Stiles worshipping the freaking ground Lydia Martin walks on?

You clench your fists, remembering that heart-stopping moment when you feared Stiles got hurt, pushing Lydia towards safety. You’re a fool for thinking Stiles would ever see you in a different light. Definitely not when Lydia exists on the same planet as Stiles. And now that Lydia is wising up, it won’t be long before those two will date, Stiles is persistent like that. And then, where would you be? As always on sidelines, watching and wallowing in self-pity as Stiles gets his happy ending with Lydia.

You really should try hard and move on before that happens. Because, as good of an actor you’re turning out to be, you sincerely doubt your ability to fake happiness when undergoing a severe heartbreak; specifically near friends with enhanced hearing abilities, who have to merely sniff around you to smell the grief weighing you down and your constant pain of heart-break.

_‘I cannot keep doing this…I just can’t. If seeing Stiles dance with Lydia, however innocent, is enough to make me lose it, then it’s obvious I cannot survive when they really start going out. I’m lucky no one ever bothered to bug me if I like someone or not…the likely possibility, no one cares about me to ask or even consider that I might like someone too. I’m just a goody two shoes to them, a boring girl who always follows the rules, and is stuck among the pages of some book or the other. Of course, Stiles or anyone really, doesn’t show an interest in me. I’m not super gorgeous and brilliant as Lydia or beautiful and exciting like Allison. Erica too, became stunning and hard to ignore after her transition into a beta wolf. But me, I’m just a wallpaper, an extremely dull one at that.’_

\--

At five feet four inches, with a normal physique – not a supermodel figure like Lydia and Allison or an attractive curvaceous form like Erica, hell, not even a cute petite like the new girl, Kira; you’re just an ordinary and average looking teenage, you know, nothing special to speak of. You occasionally agree that your eyes are your best feature, having heard frequent compliments from strangers about how they’re pretty and large. Other times, you just don’t see it. Facing the mirror, you can pinpoint a dozen offenses scattered across your oval face – perpetual dark circles that highlight your tired eyes (perhaps those people were sarcastic when they said pretty) often make you compare them with raccoons, a straight nose that if you examine closely enough will reveal itself to be slightly off-center or does it have a bump? You can never settle on one issue except that something’s off about its appearance. Lips are not too bad. They’re not thin like Aniston’s or plump like Jolie’s, merely decent, as in normal sized? Your eyebrows depending on your mood swings tend to constantly be a disaster, never thick enough or perfect enough. And if you happen to have a breakout on your cheeks or forehead (thankfully few and rare), well, you just avoid mirrors until those terrifying blemishes completely disappear.

You don’t hate your features entirely, no matter what your rants sound like. As a teenager, it’s quite typical to be critical of self and also, to have body issues to a certain extent. Blame the society and media for the unhealthy beauty expectations and pre-approved levels of perfection. You grew up in a family with decent radical views and a feminist atmosphere; hence you are encouraged to love yourself without indulging in any artificial filters that create an illusion of flawlessness for you or others. So the only cosmetics and skincare you invested in are moisturizers and lip balms. Occasionally, lipsticks too. Not that ~~Stiles~~ anybody noticed the few times you put in an effort to look pretty, and you soon gave up.

You usually focus on the few good things going for you that you like about yourself. You are grateful for good genes that ensured straight, silky hair and smooth complexion, although not that pleased about not having a smaller rack. It’s inconvenient. Guys seem to like big boobs but it makes you uncomfortable to be leered at, and shopping for brasseries feels literally a trip to hell and back.

As a kid you used to wear roomy shirts and grow your hair long enough to camouflage the chest area but got resigned to being ogled despite your best efforts to draw attention away from them. By the time you’re a teenager, you were able to shrug off any lascivious looks much more easily. It also helped that you were no longer in the minority of girls whose bust is prominent for their age. Teenage girls’ stuffing their bras is unfortunately quite common but it finally gave you anonymity and you loved it – at last, dressed according to comfort and not to fade away into the background. 

It’s around then you got into fitness and running track, hoping physical activity would help make you stronger, set you apart from everyone else, a good difference and also, because Stiles and Scott started showing serious interest in sports and going on about how they’d one day make the team. Honestly though, if not for the cheerleading squad and few perfection obsessed girls in your high-school, you might even believe you’re actually a decent looking girl. Your mother insists that you will grow into your looks but she’s your mom and obligated to say positive stuff like that. So you pay those words no heed. 

This is another reason why you crushed on Stiles so hard. Around middle school when you first started developing way earlier than the majority of girls from your class, it attracted a lot of cruel teasing and attention your way. Being one the three girls to be picked on for something out of your control made going to school a living hell. Stiles never once treated you differently or sent any weird looks your way like others, even standing up for you for the two years you underwent relentless taunts and jeers from other boys. Scott was respectful too but it was Stiles behavior and opinions that mattered most to you. Thinking back now, it is obvious Stiles was disinterested and probably only saw you as a sibling. That thought stings like a freaking whip.

Whatever, you consider yourself fortunate that in spite of insecurities regarding your appearance, you never contemplated partaking drastic measures to fit in with the crowd. Lydia could be extremely beautiful but that’s no reason why you should starve yourself in the name of dieting to lose a copious amount of weight, to attain a stick like figure, when you’re perfectly healthy and fine just as you are. 

Besides, Stiles isn’t enamored with Lydia for her appealing external package. No, it all started in third grade when Lydia with her sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude, roasted a bigoted substitute teacher – an actual adult, who almost burst into tears after getting burned by her sharp tongue. Thereafter, everything Lydia did, Stiles followed with hearts in his eyes. And well, the rest is history.

\--

Isaac nudges you with a tiny smile. “Lost in your own head, Y/N?”

“Just wandering.” You grin back.

He tilts his head, studying your face intently for a second. “You know, you’re also not that good at … maintaining puzzles, like you think.” Isaac settles on saying in the end.

He quirks his eyebrows when you scrunch your face in confusion. You ponder over his vague statement until it abruptly clicks what Isaac’s been trying to say.

“Fuck”. You breathe out, heart leaping into your throat and sweat breaking out on your brow. 

_‘He knows…about my crush on Stiles. Shit! I shouldn’t have pried about his love life. Fuck, fuck! Is he going to say anything? God, I hope not. He and Stiles seem to have this weird rivalry thing…maybe he will use this info to provoke Stiles or something? No, Isaac isn’t cruel like that…No! He wouldn’t. But what does this mean for me?’_

Isaac holds your shaking hands in his large paws (Stiles’ dog jokes are clearly rubbing off on you), running a soothing circle with his thumbs and calms your panic. He rolls his eyes. “Relax, Y/N. I’m not about to say anything. Just figured, we should be even since you happen to know my secret.”

You let out a breath that you were unaware of holding. You offer him a tentative smile, your first genuine one today. “Please, I’m nowhere near your level of expertise and you know it! Would I even ask you that question if I had really known the entire…picture?”

He laughs and it has a bitter undertone to it. “Maybe you would or maybe not. But you’re still awfully close though.”

You are left to analyze the implications behind that short confession when Isaac doesn’t make another move to explain further. He picks at the tears in his jeans nervously, mesmerizing blue eyes stubbornly tracing patterns on the floor. You are getting an awfully good idea of what exactly he’s been struggling with, and are so surprised to find that both of you are cursed with a similar fate that you voice it out loud.

“Oh.”

He stills; hands gripping his legs tightly, and you just want Isaac to stop beating himself up for falling in love with the right person but unfortunately, at the wrong time _. Just like you. God! Exactly, like you did._

“Isaac, I…it’ll be fine. We will be fine, just you wait and see.” You finally say. That’s what you’d want to hear, so you make sure to tell the same to him.

He turns to the side, facing you and his expression is open for once – all the traces of usual sarcasm and boredom gone and replaced with a painful and extremely relatable loneliness. 

“Yeah, somehow I doubt my life is going to be that easy or lucky, Y/N.”

And that doesn’t sit well with you. You are a morose drunk, sure. But right now your capacity for depressed thoughts is exceeding rapidly. It's one thing to wallow about your general pathetic life situation and it’s another thing entirely to feel that way regarding a friend. Especially precious Isaac who already had to face untold horrors and life just seems intent to keep kicking him when he’s already down.

You badly want to wipe that miserable expression from his face, and at the same time, it’s liberating to find another soul in hurting where you’d initially thought there was none. You feel terrible for bringing it up yet you sincerely sympathize with Isaac. You just want him to drop the pity party, especially since right now it wouldn’t take much for you to burst into tears. Most of all, just for tonight you want to forget Stiles and the unintentional heartbreak he causes you every time he mentions Lydia or pines after her. And, maybe just maybe you can help Isaac to forget his pain for a while too…

With that sudden inspiration, you reach up to gently caress his sharp cheekbones, almost absently and in a trance, just as your other hand moves to grip his clenched fist in comfort. You do the only thing that’s been on your mind then. You lean forward, bridging the small distance between the both of you and press your lips against Isaac’s in a chaste kiss.

You had no clue till the last possible minute that you'll be doing this…spontaneous, seeking comfort in a friend during a heat-of-the-moment thing. You are quietly freaking out by your bold and sudden move; even more so, considering Isaac kind of turned into a marble statue, from the moment you went full on creepy prince mode and kissed him without his permission.

An awkward second or two later, just as you were about to withdraw, ready to cite lack of sobriety as an excuse when Isaac finally responds. 

_Christ!_ If that wasn’t the hottest kiss you’ve ever had. Seriously, that boy can kiss and he does it with the kind of fervor he usually reserves for his studies – all focus and determination to master everything.

This is nice, you absently think as you open up for Isaac, letting his tongue slither in and set up a cozy residence. Other than a few chaste and very brief kisses with two of your acquaintances, you have never kissed anyone like this, least of all a friend. You never even thought you’d go this far with anyone since obviously Stiles is off limits and you were gone too far for your best friend to even contemplate hooking up with strangers. But Isaac is not a stranger though. He is one of your good friends, and you have always felt relatable to him despite Stiles’s weird animosity with the taller guy. 

And once you had a taste for how good making out can be, you’re finding it hard to stop or even want to pull away. You trust Isaac and you’re one hundred percent okay with the way things are going…hell, you wouldn’t mind going all the way with him, if he’s onboard with that plan too.

Isaac buries his hands in your hair, pulling you very close to him while his tongue sets about invading your mouth thoroughly. You gasp and moan, as he bites your lower lip and you drag your hands over his well built body, arching into his touches eagerly and surprisingly finding that you want more. Isaac slyly maneuvers you into a comfortable position of straddling him, as his kisses turn more demanding. You shut your forever running brain for once and give in to the heat of the moment, locking your denim clad legs tightly around his waist. You may have initiated the kiss but Isaac is the one taking charge and moving things along, in a direction you wholeheartedly approve.

He slides his hands under your shirt, trailing upwards gracefully to fondle your breasts. You bite back a whimper, nails digging into his back in pleasure and that seems to spur him out of the heady daze. Isaac’s long fingers steadily keep up with their exploratory program and eliciting groans from you as he teasingly pauses every often making you beg him for more. You definitely don’t disappoint.

He pulls back from the make-out session, his pupils blown out dark with lust and you whine, wanting to resume kissing and touching each other. Isaac licks his lips and your attention is immediately drawn to them, repeating that action unconsciously and leaning to capture those sinful lips again but he stops you with one hand, firmly holding your face inches away from his.

“Y/N…” Isaac starts to say, but you interrupt, having an idea what it’s about.

“Fuck, yes. Isaac. Come on.”

Apparently, that’s all the invitation he needs because in the next second, Isaac pulls your top off in one fluid motion. Goosebumps rise on your hands, briefly as you shiver at the sudden cool air biting at you. 

Isaac soon has you warmed up though, his mouth and hands doing a damn good job of setting your nerves and body on a wildfire. You grip his curly hair, encouraging and guiding him as he doesn’t let you down in hitting all the right spots. You guys don’t talk much, other than to occasionally utter monosyllabic words of encouragement. 

You shift slightly, when a growing hardness presses against you, and as you experimentally rub yourself against it, Isaac lets out a growl which in turn makes you grin. Your hands that have been busy playing with his glorious hair up to that point, stills and you make an executive decision to take the party downstairs.

The blaring music and flashing lights continue to faintly venture from behind the closed wooden door. Secluded in this private corner, you feel truly untethered for once – free to do anything and everything you want with a willing companion.

A sinful thought instantly forms in your mind aided by Isaac’s moans and hooded gaze, while you reposition yourself gripping his shoulders for better support.

_‘Oh, this is definitely happening!’_

And that’s your last coherent thought for a very long time that night.

**OO~SxR~OO**


	2. A Tentative Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are all staying safe during this Pandemic. Please don't forget to wear masks and practice good hygiene!!

The next day at school, things are back to normal or as normal as they could be, with you pretending to listen as Stiles waxes poetry over Lydia; but in truth, zoning out and drowning in guilt while actively trying to hide from Isaac.

You both are hanging out near his locker before the first period as per usual, when Stiles immediately started gushing about his dance with Lydia. Scott is nowhere to be seen along with Isaac, and you are a bit relieved at that fact. After last night, you don’t know how to face Isaac without turning into an overripe beetroot on spot. And if Scott happens to be nearby when this dreading moment takes place, dumb puppy or not, even he would be able to figure certain things out. You are silently freaking out and swearing never to touch alcohol ever again - as long as you live, when Stiles calls out your name, jerking you back to reality.

“Hey Y/N, where did you go last night? I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Your first instinct is to demand when and where he searched; worried Stiles might have walked in on you and Isaac getting it on…and then you remember what Stiles was doing before you fled the party. You look at your best friend in the world, his whiskey colored eyes squinting in concern and his pink, kissable lips pressed together in mild displeasure.

You wanted to ask Stiles (scathingly) when he even had time to notice you, since he was so preoccupied with Lydia freaking Martin the whole time. You bite back the ugly truths threatening to break free and force a polite smile.

“Oh, yeah… I left early. Um…it’s not really my scene you know…”

Stiles believes your lie easily just like he did all others. You wonder again how much of it, is willful ignorance and how much is Stiles being honestly obtuse to your obvious feelings. It doesn’t matter though, you tell yourself, because end of the day you really don’t want to know if Stiles is playing along to avoid hurting you or not.

They say love is friendship set on life; and the secret to a happy and successful marriage is to marry one’s best friend.

However, there is one unfortunate fact all these _‘wise’_ persons missed when doling out their free advice. Falling in love with your best friend is the easy part but finding out those feelings are not reciprocated, and trying to move on while preserving said friendship… now, that’s the hardest part. Not to mention, trying to fall out of love with the one person who knows you best, who feels like home…well, that’s just heartbreakingly painful and next to impossible.

You should know: you graduated a crash course on this subject!

Fortunately, the first period bell rings and you both hurry in different directions with an unspoken promise to meet at lunch. You dart back one last look at Stiles – helplessly admiring his lean form, who’s sprinting away to avoid Harris’s foul temper. Your feelings for Stiles haven’t changed one bit, only intensified as the years went by; you’re just as crazy about him when Stiles was a skinny kid no one looked twice at, as you are now since he transformed into a fit, and handsome teen. You feel a well of sadness creep over you, sure in the knowledge one day Stiles will walk out of your life for good…and there’s nothing you could do, to stop him.

No use thinking about that now, unless you want to start the self-pity party pretty early in the day. Besides, there’s always lunch hour and sharing a table with Stiles, Lydia and Co. is enough to kick start a depression fest without much effort on your front.

\--

You sigh deeply, thinking of AP Biology and wondering if you can skip the class citing last minute medical emergency and knowing you can’t. You share the class with Isaac, Lydia, and Allison. Kira too, but you aren’t really bothered by that friendly new addition to your group. _Surprise, surprise_ – the cute Asian-American is also a supernatural being, a fox to be precise!

With your luck, even Stiles would end up as some sort of mythical creature and you will be the only human in your gang. Actually, judging by the amount of interest Deaton and Derek show towards Stiles, and a few random crazy stuff that happened over the past year, you wouldn’t be shocked to find Stiles has some mysterious magical talent in him. You would be proud, sure but not surprised. _Not anymore!_

You enter the rapidly filling classroom and settle in your usual seat at the back of class; barely nodding at the girl pals in question. These popular girls just share a cordial _‘Acknowledge your Presence once a day’_ relationship with you, and that’s only because Allison and Scott are a thing.

Kira beams at you but you just don’t have the energy to fake it today, so you raise an eyebrow in recognition and bury your head in the heavy textbook. You feel vaguely guilty but it’s not like you were outright rude. You hardly talk to these girls; anyway, it’s nothing new. Kira is too nice to hold a grudge and if she does, well, it’s not like you want to be friends with her in the first place. No need to agonize over it…definitely not worrying or wasting time thinking about them.

You are used to ignoring Lydia and Allison, so it’s not a big deal. The problem is that Isaac joined this list since early hours of last night which is a huge blow. _Dammit_ , but you just lost the one best friend you can count on to share your intense dislike of the red-head.

_Fuck, you miss Erica and her company terribly._

Ever since Erica and Boyd decided to part ways with the pack to explore the world, you’ve been incredibly lonely. Erica was your best friend before she became the cool werewolf chick everyone wants to bang, not that the entire school barring a few are aware of the lycanthrope legacy. Hell, it’s only been few hours and you kind of already miss Isaac too, despite Stiles’s irrational mistrust of the taller guy and his preference to don on scarves at all times; you actually enjoy the sarcastic loner’s company.

In fact, the four of you – Eric, Isaac and Boyd, used to share couple of classes and personality traits which made you all good friends, before the whole supernatural nonsense messed up or rather improved their lives. You don’t begrudge their happiness, the exact opposite to be honest. You are merely worried they will outgrow you as a friend. You realise with a quick jolt that this has already happened while you were too busy moping after Stiles.

Erica and Boyd left for greener pastures while you drove away Isaac with your loneliness inspired desperation and thirsty behavior. Now, all that’s left is for Scott to get busy with a new supernatural drama courtesy of his complicated, hunter girlfriend while Stiles gets involved in solving their problems with his dream girl and prom queen, Lydia.

_And where are you during all this mess? On the sidelines, that’s right! Asked to stay far away from the exciting happenings citing too dangerous for you…yeah, because it’s a piece of cake for them, right? You wanted to badly argue yet always keep quiet during the last second. You know when you’re being ditched and no amount of arguments or logic can change their mind if they really wanted you out of it._

Sometimes, you can’t help but wonder - what even is the point of tagging along with the pack since they make sure to remind you constantly that you’re only human. Yeah, so is Stiles but that info must have skipped their supernaturally bright sensibilities. You know, your time with the pack is limited, and it’s only a matter of days before you get kicked to the curb - childhood friends with Scott and Stiles notwithstanding.

Everyone in the pack has some sort of specialty working in their favor except for you. _Fucking figures!_ Everybody got upgraded while you simply spent time mooning after your ~~soulmate~~ best friend, who doesn’t want you.

You clench the book until your knuckles turn white, in an effort to bar the painful yet honest thoughts from hurting you more. Its’ only when Isaac slumps into a chair next to you that you realise your mistake in sitting at your usual place.

FUCK!

You have no way out of this room without avoiding Isaac now. _Shit!_ Predictably, Isaac stares you down within five minutes of class beginning, and you’re forced to recognize his presence. He throws a piece of paper at you that read: _‘Let’s talk – our usual place.’_

You hiss out an angry _‘okay’_ fully aware Isaac can hear it with his superior hearing. You spend rest of the class brooding, with eyes firmly focused on the blackboard and not trying to sneak glances at the curly haired blond, nope.

Of course, the usual place of your meeting being, your apartment on the posh side of the town. Your parents moved houses a few years ago after their law firm closed another successful high-profile case. They had preferred another huge-ass house but more success meant staying away from home often. You argued against being stuck in a home alone situation and they surprisingly agreed. Staying in an Apartment complex is easier, and lot less lonely even if you’re the only person in your flat. Your father is hardly ever there but your mother spends the occasional day or two every now and then; fortunately she’s the type to inform you about such changes in advance. Mostly, it’s a practice to avoid running into your dad if he, by chance, picked the same date to spend at home. They still make sure you have plenty of money for emergencies and that’s a cool perk – makes you easily ignore your dysfunctional family routine and focus on anything else that takes your mind off from issues at home.

_Yeah, family drama is abundant at your place!_

Even if they are home all the time it’s not like your parents care where you spend your evenings after school or sometimes few nights as well. _Whatever!_ You never mentioned any troubles at your place to Stiles or Scott, knowing they won’t be able to relate to it and apprehensive, it might even make them pity you, which you can’t stand at all. Isaac is the only one who knows since he came from a similar situation - that’s only because he noticed the signs and correctly interpreted them.

It’s a good thing Stiles dropped his habit of stopping by your place to visit you, so he has no idea of your new lodgings. Even before the teen wolf drama began, he took to either texting or calling you if Stiles wanted to chill with you. You always made up some excuse to choose his place to hang out which later mostly became an ingrained practice to skip your place altogether. Stiles and Scott believe one of your parents always works from home and hence, never make the mistake of enquiring to come by, anymore. 

You and Isaac began hanging out at your place to study, and later just to hang out when things at school and pack became too much. You even let Isaac crash in there few nights and he now has his own set of keys. The apartment has a fully furnished guest room which Isaac kind of claimed as his own and you make sure to keep the pantry fully stocked, at all times.

You hurry out of the classroom before the bell could even finish ringing. Aware of Isaac’s tall legs gracefully keeping up with your pace, you let out a low growl in warning but that idiot chuckles in response. At least someone is deriving joy out of this fucked up situation.

You unintentionally flashback to last night when it was just you and him in the darkened corner - hands bold, lips greedy and eyes tentative - as you got to know each other a little more, and a little better than _just friends_ do.

A slight blush steals over your face, heat pooling in your stomach at remembering a particular incident involving your hands and his scarf. Isaac’s steps instantly falter and then pick up like nothing happened but you know better. This is why it’s such a bad idea; fooling around with your werewolf friend and trying to keep it a secret from your other werewolf friends spells a gigantic disaster-in-making.

Isaac catches your gaze and you both awkwardly shift away, unsure how to act normally and what even constitutes as ordinary for you guys anymore.

The next class, you both share with Scott and Stiles making it quite an hour of uncomfortable fidgeting. As luck would have it (not your usual sentiment), Lydia and Allison also take this same class which means your best friends end up not paying much attention to you and Isaac.

Lunch goes by like always, with everyone gossiping about the latest threat to Beacon Hills and their inputs on how to battle monsters of the week, best. Stiles, predictably, focuses ninety percent of his attention on Miss Vogue Model and the remaining ten percent on the group’s conversation; so, obviously he has no time to notice your sullen demeanor. You make appropriate noises at the right moments and people are back to overlooking your presence yet again. Isaac keeps meeting your eyes frequently as though he could read your mind. You shrug, faking nonchalance you don’t feel when he raises an eyebrow, silently enquiring after your moody silence.

You expertly fall back into simulating responses of a typical teenager devoid of heartbreak and traumas for rest of the long afternoon.

Before you know it, school ends for the day and you’re making way on your silver Toyota Camry to your house.

Now, you just need to get the dreaded conversation with Isaac out of the way; _Yay!_

\--

You wait for Isaac to show up in the evening, a bundle of nerves, with nothing left to do, having finished majority of your latest assignments.

Isaac shows up on the dot, as usual – what’s new (and kinda expected) is, him shuffling his feet and refusing to meet your eyes now that you both are finally in one place and HAVE to talk things through.

_Great!_

“So…,” you both start to speak at once.

He smiles sheepishly and motions at you to continue. You sigh, feeling damn tired of everything. You didn’t even want to have this conversation in the first place, so why are you asked to go first? Still, it’s better to clear the air between you two now rather than let the uncertainties linger and ruin your friendship in the long run…if it isn’t already, you can’t help but muse in worry.

“Last night,” you start carefully, glancing towards Isaac to gauge his response before trying to proceed appropriately. “I- I think, we can both agree it…whatever has happened, had stemmed out of loneliness and alcohol inspired craziness. We can simply pretend it didn’t happen…forget the almost confirmations that never took place.”

“I don’t think I can forget; can you, Y/N?” Isaac has his eyes narrowed, hands stuffed in pocket and suddenly appearing confident a far cry from his earlier nervous pose.

You scoff. “What do you want to do then, Isaac? This is the best option we have. Because, the alternative would mean – we will fall out of being good friends. In case you didn’t notice, we kind of already started being unsure of how to behave around each other. This shit would continue until we are both comfortable ignoring each other than hang around, constantly on edge about saying the wrong thing.”

You run a shaking hand in your tresses, sighing. “I can’t-, you know how I feel about S-Stiles…I already lost Erica and Boyd. I can’t lose your friendship too…god, knows it’s only a matter of time before I lose Stiles to Lydia.” You admit, ruefully.

“Y/N…I didn’t mean…I want us to stay friends, too. You are the only person I can talk to about…about my feelings for both Allison and Scott.”

You stare at Isaac with big eyes, shocked that he actually admitted and confirmed your suspicions. He smiles resignedly, kind blue eyes taking on a faraway look.

“I get how it feels to pine after someone you have no chance with…I mean, I get to experience double the pain. But, last night…for once in a long time, I could actually feel free of the burden if only for some time, y’know? I don’t mean any offence, Y/N…”

“No, I get it.” You add. “I felt the same way too. No wonder, people are always going on about getting drunk and hooking up as some of the best ways to heal a broken heart.”

You both laugh and fortunately, the discussion stops being morose soon after. Isaac opens up further on how he fell in love with both the huntress and the wolf while you talk about realizing Stiles is it for you.

\--

Two hours later sees Isaac and you camping out in your Queen bed, lighting poring over the math homework you’re stuck at.

You guys made peace with previous night’s make-out session – the incident only serving to bring you even closer and to freely discussing issues formerly considered as off-limits. You realise Isaac and you have much more in common than earlier perceived: insecurities and a secret fear of getting kicked to the curb by your friends.

“Y/N…I was thinking,” Isaac began suddenly, halting from confiding calculus’s deepest secrets. “Maybe, we should try hooking up once in a while…you know, in the interests of mutually relieving stress from having an unrequited crush on our friends…”

You look up, surprised and pleasantly thrilled at his implications. He is tensed, clearly bracing to be rejected and or chastised for bringing the topic up. However, you do see excellent merit in his plan.

Grinning at the relieved blush Isaac portrays, you utter the life changing word, delightedly. “Okay.”

A semi-formal contract is quickly and orally drafted after that. The key points being: **A)** This has to stay a secret at all costs; **B)** Either of the parties can put an end to this, at any moment - if things turn weird or stop being fun or if they want out for any reasons; **C)** They are communicate openly and clearly regarding any kinks or squicks for their own benefit; **D)** This is a strictly casual and _‘Friends with Benefits’_ thing; **E)** They are not exclusive and are totally free to pursue others, as well as their crushes – which means no guilt necessary if anything happens between them and anybody else.

After drawing up a tentative deal, you seal it with a kiss, which Isaac happily deepens. Before you know it, Isaac has you pinned to the mattress with his warm body encasing yours and you guys are picking up where you left it, last night.

This time though, you have a feeling you both might go all the way…good thing, there’s already a comfy bed, and a secure room ensuring total privacy, available for that!

**OO~SxR~OO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, no promises regarding regular updates and cannot even guarantee whether this fic will be discontinued or not.  
> Will definitely try to post whenever inspiration strikes and muse cooperates, though!
> 
> Hope you like the plot so far! Thanks for reading! ❤


	3. Lonely Hearts Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for the wonderful kudos! This chapter's is gonna be pretty angsty as par with the course and is hopefully worth the long wait. Certain elements from Season 3A are adapted to drive the plot. Hope you guys enjoy the ride! Stay safe and healthy. ❤  
> ~SxR~

_It’s a bad day._

You know this fact from the second you woke up. Checking the time displayed on your mobile, you groan. For a nocturnal person (like yourself), this godawful hour doesn’t even count as early hours of the day. There’s still couple more hours to go before it’s officially morning in Beacon Hills. Technically, you could go back to sleep which thanks to your chronic insomnia is certainly out of question, the second your grudging embrace of sleep is disrupted by wretched wakefulness. Or you could try catching up on your reading, shows or hell, even hit the gym.

But, it’s gonna take more effort than you can muster (right now) to leave the bed, so you give in and remain staring off into space. As though on strict schedule, a litany of your failures and shortcomings flash through your mind followed by pangs of guilt and regret. Screwing eyes shut and taking harsh breaths, you struggle not to give into these base emotions wrecking from inside and pushing you close to a breakdown before dawn could properly set in.

A couple more agonizing minutes pass by and you successfully manage to banish your skeletons and deep-rooted fears back into the closet where they belong.

You then curse explicitly, as a slideshow of every worst and humiliating memory from the past decade immediately begins on auto-pilot making you cringe in embarrassment, just as the horror bit of the montage is done with.

Yup, like you said, today’s gonna be a bad one and especially long because of it.

\--

_And, you’re right!_

It is hardly noon before the news breaks out about the latest gruesome death near the woods. There’s been an increase of missing persons lately and the pack didn’t pay much attention since those disappearances didn’t particularly scream of supernatural interference.

Until now.

Virgin sacrifices. Apparently, they’re back in your county - trending like crazy, legit with ritual markings and all. _Geez, what the hell? Is B.H back to Middle Ages with this shit?_

You aren’t concerned with being a target anymore thanks to Isaac. The pact you both made is working out perfectly, more than happy with the results. A couple times a week, you guys meet up to reminisce and avoid heartache for few short hours, lost in each other’s arms. You have taken to fondly calling them mandatory support meetings of the Lonely Heart Club. The name felt appropriate because at the end of the day, despite temporary companionship, you and Isaac are lonely whilst starved for affection and love from the people oblivious to your pain.

Random crazy stuff has been happening over the past few weeks but then again, this shit isn’t too out of place in this blasted town. It occurs to the Pack then that maybe these events and sacrifices are related. After all, there is no such thing as coincidence in Beacon Hills.

You, however, are stuck replaying the lone incident during school last week where a murder of crows decided to gatecrash your English class.

More than the new substitute teacher, Ms. Blake’s dazed state and the shock of this terrifying attack or students trying to duck and outrun the crazed birds, you are horrified by the way Stiles instinctively reacted to danger. Instead of defending himself like everyone else, Stiles lunged to protect Lydia by shielding her under his jacket without a care for his safety. This action strikes home again just how crazy Stiles is about Lydia. He only has eyes for Lydia. You want to hate him, you really do. But, you end up hating the fact you keep falling in love with him.

Loathe the fact no matter how much you try, you still love him. There is nobody else you’ll put above Stiles, not even yourself. You need him more than Stiles could ever possibly know or understand yet he only wants Lydia in that way. And, it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you will never be her.

You could never imitate her charm or style, don’t want to either just to get Stiles attention. There is a clear difference between an original and copy. You rather stay a friend than turn into a fake and still lose it all.

As much as you feel used and want to put an end to this anguish, you cannot seem to help wanting and needing Stiles in your life. Even if it hurts (every time) to see him with her and after all this time, there are still no signs of your fading love.

You should be used to this gut-wrenching pain of realization by now, accustomed to your presence not even registering to Stiles when Lydia is around but somehow, it hurts worse this time.

Maybe, it’s because you’re once more reminded that you are dispensable. Looking around, people are seeking refuge under desks in pairs – friends, flings and even rivals huddling close together to avoid a certain harm. And, where were you in this chaos? Alone in a corner, as all your friends scrambled to defend themselves like a team: Stiles is with Lydia, Isaac is covering for Allison and Scott is busy running around trying to save everyone ... but you.

Nobody spared a thought about your safety. In other circumstances, you could have easily forgiven their slight if the proof isn’t glaringly presented before your eyes. They all had time for the ones they cared about and the fact, you’re not included in this list spoke volumes. It didn’t really come as a surprise too.

 _Easily forgettable, just like you suspected_.

More than anything, Stiles not giving a damn about you is the hardest pill to swallow. You choke back tears. It doesn’t matter. You should’ve been used to this. But the promised numbness never appears, each fresh wound to the heart festering in infection the longer, you continue to suffer in silence.

You feel like a ghost, wandering the hallways and trying to blend in the land of living. A darkness swirling within the pit of despair, as though slowly consuming and rotting you from inside out.

For an incredibly perceptive guy, Stiles sure is obtuse when it comes to you. Plunging a knife deep and twisting the blade with every thoughtless action of his. How does he fail to notice your bleeding heart served at his feet or the shrine you built for him in your mind? Cannot help but wonder how Stiles keeps missing these neon signs that he is slowly, yet surely killing you.

\--

Analyzing the reported crime pattern, you realize with a jolt Stiles fits the profile. Confirmed by his previous bemoaning and gossip about Danny’s playful remarks, your fear for Stiles’s life is proved correct. There is an obvious solution to this problem: Stiles just needs to lose his virginity to escape the eligibility checklist of their anonymous supernatural baddie of the month.

Stiles, brilliant tactician that he is, has the right idea, except he is looking at the wrong options. Or so, you believe.

You figure this is a wonderful opportunity to approach Stiles. If he doesn’t get the true gist of your proposal or tries to let you down gently, you can always brush off the rejection claiming it’s just a friendly offer to protect his life. At least, you would have finally done something about your feelings instead of hopelessly pining like an idiot. That was your plan anyway. To get Stiles aside after school hours and offer to do the horizontal mumbo with him; y’know, in a platonic way to evade turning up as the next sacrifice.

And then, Economics hour takes place: shattering your hopes in the blink of an eye.

Coach Finstock had to ask for that spare change and Stiles just had to volunteer, accidentally revealing too much about his personal life. At least, the cat’s out of the bag and you’re glad to know Stiles doesn’t qualify for the sacrificial victim anymore.

Someone definitely got lucky, indeed!

The XL marking makes your brows quirk up fleetingly in a pleasant surprise. Not exactly shocking since Stiles always exuded Big Dick Energy. Nonetheless, it is gratifying to watch the Coach splutter and offer congratulations. You feel a strange combination of delight and jealousy at the sight of flustered Stiles pocketing the condom amid a mostly speechless class.

Yeah, simply fantastic to hear how little you know about Stiles these days, isn’t it? Granted, he has no idea about Isaac and you too, but that’s neither here nor there.

You wonder who the lucky girl is? Perhaps, it’s a total stranger or some random girl from a different class. You foolishly wish that were the case.

Again, you really shouldn’t be so startled to learn it wasn't. This is par with the course. From the way things are progressing and taking your fickle luck into consideration, Stiles is likely to view a dumpster on fire in a romantic sense before ever considering you.

_And, ain’t that the honest goddamn truth!_

\--

Pack meeting inside the same empty classroom that almost caused you to have a stroke exposes more distressing news.

Heather’s missing and presumably dead.

The same Heather, you and Stiles grew up with and later parted ways in middle school. Turns out, Stiles attended her birthday party last night and was supposed to meet up with her in the wine cellar only to be stood up. Suddenly, everything clicks into place. The guilt Stiles reeks of when he mentioned leaving her alone down there to pick something up in a hurry and the grimace Scott sports make for one damning picture.

Stiles intended for his first time to be with Heather at her birthday party. A party you were not invited to despite being on somewhat sociable terms with the blonde. Of course, she was still in regular contact with Stiles after changing schools. He is the main reason you both stopped hanging out at the start of high school. It didn't matter, Heather went to a different school. Crushing on your mutual best friend and competing as rivals does that to even the strongest of friendships and you guys weren’t an exception. 

Still, that doesn’t stop you from panicking about Heather. It’s close to ten hours or so, since her disappearance and odds are not in her favor. Having a pessimistic and rational outtake on life meant, you are mentally preparing for the worst while hating yourself for giving up so quickly. However, if past deaths are any indication - she will be soon found in a similar state too.

You feel like an absolute jerk for the stray thought which registers Stiles had narrowly escaped capture. A flood of relief encircles you as your eyes roam over the distraught human, reconfirming his presence in the room. A slight pressure on your hand from Isaac registers - a reminder to reel your emotions in before they give away too much.

Thankfully, only Derek notices the gesture. Probably, because the Alpha is the first one to sense the change from your intense worry to relief. Hanging out near Derek is always a risk with Stiles around. The others were all bitten werewolves and as such, untrained to detect the miniature changes within one’s scent. Derek though, is a born werewolf and already his green eyes reflect a shade of empathy along with another emotion (you hate to qualify as pity) when they meet yours.

You turn away first, not wanting to see understanding in those kind eyes. Bad enough, Isaac knows and has to hear your whining on a regular basis. You cannot stand someone else, especially a cool guy (and your idol) like Derek knowing about your pathetic crush on Stiles and its tragic fate. Isaac squeezes your hand gently below the desk and you secretly bask in the comfort he provides. He obviously derived the same meaning from the short explanation Stiles doled out.

You tune out the conversation for a while. There is clearly nothing important to state and Lydia taking the reins, advocating for Allison’s justified presence hardly needs your whole attention. This time is better spent coming up with a strategy to avoid Derek’s inevitable sympathetic tête-à-tête.

You’re not an idiot. If anyone can understand the misery of missing someone you cannot have it is Derek Hale. The poor guy lost his entire family to a murderous psychopath bitch and compared to Derek’s life, you had it pretty easy. Still, one of the first things Derek enforced as an Alpha is taking interest in the emotional well-being of his pack. Which meant, he will surely address the increasingly angsty vibes you have been failing to suppress in his presence courtesy of Stiles.

Hopefully, you will be able to push that conversation to another day. You already are at your limit with the latest stress for Heather and further confirmation of Stiles’s disinterest.

“You really need to hook up with someone ASAP, Stiles.”

Scott’s urgent tone has you plunging into awareness and paying attention to their exchange at once. “It is a matter of life and death. It could have easily been you that went missing last night. I left … I didn’t stick around and you could have-“

The beta struggled to finish his thought and you definitely empathized. Stiles is reassuring Scott but you retreated for your chaotic mind palace to take it all in. Couldn’t stand to hear Stiles be offhand about his wellbeing like it isn’t worth protecting.

Yes, Scott voiced your thoughts exactly. While it is a depressing sentiment, nevertheless, it is true that Stiles is in immense danger the longer he holds onto his V-card. Perhaps, if Stiles and Heather hooked up last night, she wouldn’t have been in this predicament now.

Maybe, this is what it takes for Stiles to finally get together with Lydia, given the red-head's contemplative gaze in his direction. Her green eyes raking over his slumped posture - calculative and piercing. As though, deliberating whether to swoop in and grant him the privilege of spending a night with her.

You clench your fists, sucking in a breath as Stiles stares back at Lydia. Around them, Derek is conversing with the Scallison pair but the three of you turn a deaf ear to the proceedings. Only Isaac is hanging onto their every word ... he has no choice. Allison and Scott must have sorted out their differences, if he is defending the hunter's involvement in pack meetings.

Meanwhile, you observe with growing unease as Stiles and Lydia take part in some sort of their own silent exchange. You didn't receive a single glance than the customary greeting this entire time while Lydia gets his undivided focus.

She is the only girl Stiles seems to see. When Lydia isn’t around, it would be someone else … anybody except for you, it seems. You almost laugh bitterly at the way things are turning out. A pressure starts to increase behind your eyelids and you can feel the tell-tale wobble of your lips beginning to give in.

_Shit! Not now. Not in front of everyone. Not like this!_

You don’t want to burst into tears but the choking sensation and heaviness in chest is growing by the second, a slight tremble begins in your hands and Isaac almost leaves bruises from how tightly he’s griping you. Some of the pain hammering at your heart deflates and is replaced with warmth at the knowledge, someone cares enough to protect you from potentially embarrassing yourself.

You excuse yourself when your gaze starts to turn glassy and Isaac sneakily calls your mobile, providing an excellent get-away.

“I really need to take this call.” You murmur before dashing out of the room. Nobody objects and for once, you don’t look the gift horse in the teeth through a depressive lens.

You manage to keep a good distance between the classroom and yourself. Reach the Lacrosse grounds, tears silently spilling over your cheeks and takes a deep, shuddering breath to regain composure. After all, as a human you are not sure if this much space is enough to escape your friends’ super-hearing senses.

Soft footsteps drag your awareness back and you turn around to see Isaac slowly approaching you. Hastily wiping your tears, you fear the worst. But, the taller guy shakes his head a soft smile playing on his lips rebuking your fears.

“They don’t know. Scott, I mean. You’re far enough Y/N. Plus Allison and Scott are currently discussing potential suspects so he won’t be able to overhear us.” Isaac confirms, coming to stop in front of you.

“Thank you.” You whisper, expressing gratitude for everything he did in two short, insufficient words. They will never be enough, yet you hope Isaac understands the depth of your sincerity they contain anyway.

The possibility of Derek figuring out is left unspoken and hangs heavily in the air. Well, that’s something out of both your hands for now. Besides, you strongly suspect Derek is aware of your casual affair with Isaac. The guy lives in his apartment and is bound to notice the teenager sneaking in at odd hours reeking of sex and traces of your scent. _Wouldn’t take a genius to figure it out._

He smiles again, worrying his lower lip and carefully studies you. “What are you gonna do if S- he chooses the alternative path?”

You are grateful Isaac forgoes Stiles name at the last moment. One can never be too careful and their school has a long history of secretly housing creatures in disguise. You rather not take the risk.

You shrug, composure wholly regained. “I don’t know. But, it’s not like I can do anything about it either.”

Fidgets for a bit and straightens out, resolve forming. “I don’t want a repeat of today’s performance. It’s too mortifying.”

Isaac nods. “You wanna head back or return home?”

“I’ll leave. Just offer family emergency as an excuse for me, will you?” You sigh.

He doesn’t hesitate to shake his head, disagreeing. “I’ll just text Derek that we are both leaving. Let me accompany you.” Isaac continues when you try to interrupt him. “This is the whole point of our contract, remember? Providing support and company through tough times. I doubt you want to be alone right now and I know, I don’t. A- they seem to be on verge of…”

Isaac trails off but you’re able to comprehend the meaning of his missing statement. You have seen it with your own eyes – Allison and Scott appearing close once more, on verge of getting back together.

Moreover, you have your own mess to unpack. Heather. Stiles. Your inability to move on. Endless family drama. Depression and Insomnia kicking ass on top of everything else. Yeah, you could stand to escape this shitty reality for a while.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

\--

Later that night, you receive an unexpected phone call. A begrudging glance at the caller ID displays Stiles and the last vestiges of drowsiness abandon you in a jiffy. It’s been ages since Stiles gave a call late at night, sticking to texts which too kept dwindling in numbers lately.

The shock is enough for you to pick up without giving it any further thought, sitting up and silently freaking out.

“Stiles?”

“Hey Y/N. Umm … you left suddenly and I- we didn’t hear back from you. Is everything alright? Derek mentioned some urgent family business but then Isaac joined you. I mean, it’s a good thing he accompanied you given the current dangers. I wanted to stop by then wanted to make sure it’s okay-“

“Stiles”, you stop his rambling as tension eases from your body. Nothing bad happened. This is just a normal call, made to check on friend who left hastily earlier. “Everything’s fine. Just normal family stuff.”

“Oh…” Stiles is quiet for a while. A strange phenomenon considering he suffers from ADHD and is literally incapable of maintaining silence when something’s bothering him. Which is clearly the case here.

Sure, you may not play an active role in his life anymore, but you still know him. Knows the little tics and hints spelling a larger picture than the innocent exterior, Stiles paints with his charismatic smiles and beguiling expressions.

“My turn to ask now. Is everything okay with you? I know the whole thing with Heather came as a shock. I’m sorry you had to experience it first-hand. You know, there is nothing you could do about it, right?”

Sometimes it’s easy to forget Stiles can be a harsh critique to himself just like you. “I left her there, Y/N. If only I stayed…then, Heather would still be alive now.”

“You do realize Stiles, whoever is abducting these people is doing it using magic or sinister means. There is no trace of evidence left and no witnesses. If you stayed with Heather, you would have been taken too. It’s not like you ran away at the sign of danger. So, stop blaming yourself for an unfortunate coincidence.” You respond angrily.

“Huh”, He sounds resigned and that’s as good as acquiescence coming from Stiles. You patiently wait for him to continue and spill the tea. “Hey, err … I wanted to- I mean you missed the conversation and Scott made some really good points…”

You gulp, throat suddenly dry. Here it comes. Stiles has decided to take the plunge, which is a good thing (necessary even), but you dread to hear who he chose to partner with. You can only pray it isn’t Lydia yet this is the only option which makes sense. Stiles must be looking for your advice to approach her or something.

God, the last thing you want to do is help Stiles with this. Yet, you also know you can never refuse him anything.

Bracing yourself, you try to remain unaffected when Stiles utters those damning words and buries you alive. “I was thinking that y’know, if you are alright with-“

Your anxiety hits the roof the longer Stiles takes to get to his point. And, (un)fortunately that’s when Isaac sleepily enquires (probably woke up from the stench of anxiety and grief) next to you. “Y’okay, Y/N.”

You screw your eyes shut. So Fucked.

“Is that Isaac?” Stiles demands incredulously. “What the hell is he doing at your place around this time? Why does he sound like …? Oh. Th- How, I th- … when?”

You can physically hear the gears in his head turning and screeching to a halt. This is not how you envisioned Stiles learning about you and Isaac. You didn’t want him to know, period. Isaac loses his drowsiness and moves to sit, following your conversation intently.

_Oh, well no use crying over split wolfsbane._

“Ah, there- it isn’t serious or anything”, you stammer. “We are just messing around and it seemed a good reason as any to cross some things off my list...”

A pregnant pause follows your confession and you hear a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the call.

Isaac holds your gaze, rubbing soothing circles on your ankle and grounding you. Both of you are tense, waiting for Stiles to respond. This could either end up as a major shitstorm or fly over your heads like an insignificant breeze. For you, both the responses would still be lethal.

Also, there is the question of what happens next for Isaac and you. One of the clauses of your truce is to avoid revealing it existence to anyone and now that, you both are caught in the act … Well, it certainly raises some interesting queries.

“Right, umm, it’s late. So, I’ll hang up and you guys could go back to … yeah, Bye.”

Stiles abruptly ends the call and you blink in confusion.

That’s it? You expected him to bombard you with questions or curse at your choice at the very least. It’s no secret, Stiles dislikes Isaac. Always did and found interesting ways to make his derision for the taller blond known. You didn’t know what you anticipated but this certainly wasn’t it.

Did Stiles even feel bad that you kept this a secret from him? If he did, Stiles would have immediately ranted about it. But the fact, he said nothing – no sarcastic comments or even showed an iota of freaking interest. Just nothing.

_Nada._

That settles it, doesn’t it? It is no longer your paranoia insisting but an official confirmation. He really doesn’t give a damn about you. Somewhere along the way, your nightmare came true and now, Stiles doesn’t even treat you like a typical friend. If it had been Scott in your place then, Stiles would have put him under a relentless cross-examination and threatened to skewer Isaac blah-blah-blah. A proper shovel talk in Stilinski fashion.

Right, maybe it is time for you to truly burn bridges and move on.

\--

“It sounded like he’s upset.” Isaac teases, waggling his eyebrows.

You scoff, aware of what Isaac is doing and warmed by his efforts. Still, there’s wishful thinking and there’s reality. If Stiles is truly upset by this revelation then it would be due to feeling sidelined and not for the reasons Isaac is hinting at or you're hoping for.

You may be a masochist but, at least you’re not delusional. “Of course, he is. Stiles doesn’t take well to people pulling one on him. He considers himself to be a top notch detective, remember.”

“Hmm…” Isaac smartly doesn’t argue.

Good. You’re in no mood to prolong this uncomfortable thread. There is also no way you can fall asleep after this jarring reality call. You lift a hand to lightly trace the contours of Isaac’s displayed abs. As you reach his sharp jaw line, his smirk grows and you cannot resist the challenge in his blue eyes as they assess you.

You want to put an end to that insufferable smug grin. Straddling him and leaning over, you do just that – playfully nipping all the way from his collarbone and ending up with his lips. Progressing to make out, you focus on the rhythm of moans and ragged breathing filling the room, banishing a specific startled and hurt tones to a dark recess to mull over later.

There is a high chance your arrangement with Isaac might come to an end soon, probably tomorrow, so you plan to make most of tonight. At least, you got this going for you, right now. Tomorrow’s another story and a problem for future you.

Tonight’s all about you and Isaac and memorizing his perfect hot body for one last time.

**OO~***~OO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ❤  
> Once again, cannot guarantee timely continuation and will update new chapters whenever muse cooperates. 
> 
> ~
> 
> It's been a while since I re-watched Teen Wolf, so certain characters and timelines will probably be misplaced and some arcs are totally avoided like the alpha pack. Since, this is AU - canon divergence, please bear with me and go with the flow. This fic anyways focuses mainly on reader and her feelings for Stiles. Hence accurate representation of TW plot is willingly ignored.
> 
> ~
> 
> Thank you for understanding and your continued patience!!


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